Title: Between You and Me
Authoress: Ankaris123
Summary: More-than-one-shot. They used to be one; just North America. Now they were two, and two they will stay. No matter how much they wanted it all back.
Disclaimer: APHetalia is property of Hidekaz Himaruya.
[Edit: Important Note: I would like to clarify that instances of the term North America specifically refers to Canada and the United States as one entity (in a way, Anglo-America although that's not entirely correct). I've appended this note onto the first chapter.]
Important Note: Please note that the quotes may be inaccurate, not necessarily used in their correct historical dates, be reinterpreted for the sake of the story in a way that its original meaning is skewered to taste or even discarded completely, and were chosen for their relevance value to the story and at times not to their actual relevance to reality. This story focuses more on the conflicts than anything else and is most likely biased since I'm a Canadian. History made be inaccurate, writer is not a history buff.
A/Ns: So I got this little idea and decided to do some research for inspiration. Somehow it lead to quotes on US-Canada relations (as it always does) and it turned into this anger child. I really hate myself for writing depressing stories all the time. It's become my specialty or something. This story became too long for my tastes (and isn't finished yet) so I decided to make it a one-shot in instalments. Anyhow, without further ago, read on.
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America has no north, no south, no east, no west. The sun rises over the hills and sets over the mountains, the compass just points up and down, and we can laugh now at the absurd notion of there being a north and a south. We are one and undivided. – Sam Watkins
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The orange-red sky of early evening was shrouded in gray, precipitous clouds, beating the wild lands below with rainfall. A crack of air splitting in the night and a flash of natural light, two children emerged from their respective hiding places and met for the first time.
They observed each other curiously, keeping cautious distance. Both blond, untamed, and young. One raised a hand, the other did the same. Their movements mirrored by the other in impossibly perfect synchronization.
A second bolt of lightning, they jumped, startled by the sound and light, into each other's reaching arms.
They looked to each other, forgetting the rain drenching their white linen clothes; blue to violet, violet to blue.
And smiled.
"Why is there another me?" they said in unison. Small hands explored each other's features in childish interest.
A rustle came from above and a small woodland creature fell before them having stumbled on the slippery wood. It stared back at the twin set of inquisitive eyes and leapt into a bush.
Exchanging a grin, thoughts exchanged without words, they followed in hot pursuit.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident. – Arthur Schopenhauer
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The one with the violet eyes slipped through the foliage with ease. With both arms, he carried a small white bear which continued to slumber despite the movement. He smiled, hurrying to share his discovery of the strange creature with his other self.
"I will be so pleased," he said to himself.
Near the coastline, he saw the other him beyond a tall meadow. His large eyes grew larger at the sight of the tall foreigners and shrunk back into the tree's welcome shade. Peering around the smooth bark, he observed their interaction. One of them looked familiar but only just so. He watched the two bribe his other self and felt an anger brew in the pit of his stomach.
He wanted them to leave. He did not like the eyes they were making at his other self. He waited for his other self to drive them off their soil.
He watched his other self smile.
He was confused and then thought, surely he was just pretending, just being nice. A joke, the other him liked those very much.
He watched as an unfamiliar look of absolute delight appeared on his other self's face. He watched the shorter of the two embrace him.
"What am I doing?" he whispered in disbelief, leaning forward through the branches. He must have made a noise because his other self turned and began to sprint towards him.
He scuttled back in what he realized was fear.
Fear? Why was he afraid of himself?
The other him burst into the tiny clearing; the elated smile so beautiful yet so frightening. Before the other him could speak, he blurted out,
"Who are those people? What do they want?"
"They are France and England. Well, they said it was okay if I call them Francis and Arthur. And they gave me a name too! They say I am 'Alfred' of America. Come on, you got to meet them." He reached out to take his hand only to have it wrenched out of his grasp.
Angry violet eyes glared into shocked blue ones.
"No! I don't want to be Alfred!" he shouted. He didn't want to be anything they gave him. They should just leave like the foreigner that landed on their northern shores in the past. He wanted them to leave. To leave him and his other self alone.
His other self gave him a crossed look and crossed his arms.
"No, see, I am Alfred. Not you."
You.
He started to hyperventilate, clutching at his chest as it became harder and harder to breathe. His vision swam in before him as a chill settled into his small body.
The other him never used that word when talking to him before.
"Are you okay?" his other self reached forward concerned.
His tiny form shuddered at the utterance of the word.
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?" his other self looked scared as well. This reassured him a little. It meant they were still connected, still one. "Really, you don't look so good."
"Stop saying that word!" He clamped his eyes shut and pressed his trembling hands against his ears, shaking his head madly as though it would dislodge the sound of the pronoun.
"What word? You're acting weird, you stop it!"
"Shut up! Shut up!" Why couldn't his other self understand?
He couldn't take it anymore. Ignoring the distressed cries for him to come back, he scooped up the bear cub and plunged into the wildness.
He ran and ran and ran. He ran until he couldn't breathe without choking, until his little legs ached from the exertion. He crawled with his forearms until he reached the lakeside, until his sleeves were shredded in his effort. He drank his fill until his parched throat was soothed, until he coughed it back out.
Rubbing his eyes, he bit back hiccups and wondered why his other self was creating this divide. They were one and always will be. That was their truth, the one and only truth they needed.
The lake stilled and the world around him appeared on the undisturbed surface, mirrored flawlessly.
He looked down at his reflection and bit back a sob at the violet eyes that stared back.
Violet. Not blue.
The white bear eventually crept to his side, having been abandoned a short ways back, dunking its furry head into the cold water for a drink. Ripples spread across the water, distorting the image.
When it pulled back, shaking his head dry, it looked at him with shiny black eyes and said,
"Who?"
Tears spilled forth, burning his cheeks.
"I...he is right."
The bear cocked its head puzzled and directed its attention to the school of fish faintly visible in the lake.
"I really am a 'you'."
He cried until he was drained to the bottom of his soul, until his heart split into two.
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A/Ns: Blargh, this made me so depressed. Technically the next section is done but I might have to rearrange later sections so they make more chronological sense. I'll put it up in a day or two if you like. Should I scrap this distraction and go work on my neglected stories? You decide.
Thanks for reading